Not far from the art barn, a wire angel has been hanging for days, suspended between two trees. The first two times I saw her, I didn't have my camera. This afternoon I went back and looked at her some more. It's a startling piece, vaguely sinister but also startlingly lovely, angry, forbidding, helpless. Harsh. She's an angel who would grate rather than gentle. She's cold and removed but also so fully human a figure. She's alighting or removing herself--one hand reaches to clutch; the other withdraws, falls away.
Not even I know fully what I mean.